Lost & Found
by Mairemor
Summary: When we're incomplete, we're always searching for somebody to complete us. A a dark Valentine's day tale about love lost and found. Spoilers for the Northman Trilogy's next fic!


_**Lost and Found**_

**_A/N: Whew! Have any other East Coasters been playing in the snow? We've "enjoyed" about three feet, so far, in the beautiful Brandywine Valley and another 12-16 inches are on the way. You can check out my pics of Snowmageddon DE on my FB :-D_**

_**This side story of the Northman Trilogy takes place after the events in DSR. It really was lost in cyberspace and found again. Using her techie voodoo, AmaZen, my long-suffering Beta, called it back from the dead. This story is about being lost and found on many levels.**_

_**The Valhalla is Eric's Casino in Shreveport and VIV means "Very Important Vamp," what else? Delphenia means "of Delphi;" in mythology this is the surname of Artemis/Diana, goddess of the hunt and the moon. A Gythja is a priestess of the Aesir. Oh, the French: Zeline (Jason's shifter daughter) says "Let's go!" Pierre says "Cher! Let me explain!" "Fullrettirsorð" is the Viking practice of "full penalty," meaning that the insulted individual could kill the insulter without fear of punishment.**_

_**CH's characters are hers and hers alone. My characters and the concept of Daughters of the Blood are mine and mine alone.**_

_**Thanks, AmaZen, for being the best of the best.**_

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Kirsten Northman sped down I 20 West toward Shreveport in her red Maserati sports car, a recent gift from her fiancé, King Toller of Sweden. She had almost an hour to drive and think about all the changes in her life. She'd lost what was left of her innocence and human nature during the war. But she had become a full Daughter of the Blood, acquiring Eric's millennium of power the night she crossed over, and she had found Toller. After centuries apart, their twin souls had met again. Crossing the Red River, she briefly enjoyed the golden pillars of light that glazed its surface--lights cast by The Valhalla Casino.

She had hoped to go out with friends tonight, to kick back and have a couple drinks on the sly. But instead, duty called and now she was about to spend her entire night and possibly all day tomorrow extracting imps from The Valhalla's computer system and interrogating the sometime-beau of her cousin, Zeline Paquette-Stackhouse.

She paused briefly as Ray Banned security vamps smiled and waved her toward the VIV parking area. In just a few more minutes she would be up to her neck in computer glitches and vampire politics. Again. She sighed. Things had been much simpler when she and Toller had had time to themselves. He and Kirsten were hand-fasted, and planned to marry at the winter solstice--a holy time, when the long night would extend the celebrations.

They had made love only twice before he'd had to return to Sweden -- once after the blόt when she had killed the rogue Blothvild, and again just before he'd left. Her head had rested peacefully in the curve of his shoulder as she snuggled against him, their legs intertwined. He'd planted a gentle kiss over her heart.

"I'm proud of you Sváss. It takes a lot of courage to release the familiar and secure, to embrace the new." A flash of humor had crossed his face." But, I think your wyrd, like mine, will always involve adventure--for in movement there's life, and in change, potential."

Her fingers stroked the flat slope of his stomach, the smooth jut of hipbone, the swell of his muscled thigh. She was exquisitely sensitive to the details of his body.

"When I first met you I was afraid to like you, and when I liked you I was afraid to love you."

Toller turned to meet her eyes.

"And now, min Sváss?"

They shared a smile. Kirsten shook her head in wonder.

"Now that I love you I'm afraid to lose you."

Toller had gathered her close. "I will never lose you again. Long ago, in another lifetime, you came into my life, and I was never the same. Your face is my heart, min Sváss, and every time I hear your voice I fall in love again."

The rude buzz of a cell phone yanked her back to the present. Damn! "Why aren't you here yet?" Pam wanted to know.

"I'm pulling in right now." Kirsten marshaled her drifting thoughts and prepared to do battle with The Valhalla's CPU and find out whether Z's beau Pierre had killed her other lover.

Kirsten smiled grimly. The Cajun vamp was lucky that he was a very good bartender. It was the only reason that he wasn't enjoying the swampy amenities of her father's detention center.

Pierre denied killing the fairy Charles. Was he lying or had he been magicked to forget what had happened? If he had done the murder, he was as good as definitely dead. Hell, if Pierre had killed Charles Kirsten would kill him herself!

Kirsten knew that Zeline was sick with rage and worry, and probably guilt as well. Z and Charles had had some rocky moments recently. She should never have encouraged Pierre; but Charles had stormed off, and Z was the kind of woman who would always be the highest point in any love triangle. But if she'd wanted to hurt Charles, she'd gotten far more than she'd bargained for.

Sighing again at her cousin's folly, Kirsten tossed the cell phone into her purse and prepared to leave the car. Just as she opened her door, Kirsten sensed a powerful alien register in the small woods behind the parking lot. It was watching her. The hairs of her neck stood on end.

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Pam knew something was up the moment she entered The Valhalla's private VIV lounge. Not more than half an hour past sunset and a stranger was already waiting. Since most vamps were just waking up, the stranger was either very old, or had gone to ground practically inside the casino to be here at this hour. With no new vamps at The Valhalla, Pam realized that the stranger must be very old, perhaps even older and stronger than Eric. His square, craggy face, flaxen hair, broad, flat cheekbones and blue eyes marked him as a Northern European.

He inclined his head to Pam, having correctly discerned that she was part of the casino's command structure. His expression made it plain that he was not there to party and find a bit of human bootie.

When he spoke, the stranger's voice was deep and slightly accented. "My name is Asger; I come on a matter of much importance to me and also to your sheriff." Asger paused and met her eyes.

From his regal appearance and formal address she knew that he was an ancient Scandinavian; probably in a position of power, and in tremendous distress. His business must be urgent, else he would have sent an underling in his place.

Pam nodded, her face a polite mask, and waited patiently. She showed him to a private booth in the corner.

"Sheriff Northman is currently in a meeting, but I'll let him know you're here. I'm sure he'll be interested in your news. Hilda will tend to your needs, with our compliments, until the Sheriff is available."

Asger nodded with approval. This female minion was very sharp; she'd seen that he was someone of importance without his having said a word.

Pam glanced at Hilda. The fangbanger waitress and willing donor now sauntering toward them, her eyes bright with anticipation. Pam hoped that the big Vamp would tip the girl well for her special services. Hilda was very limber, very attentive, and had delicious, rare AB negative blood.

She was dressed in The Valhalla's "sexy Viking chick" costume – a totally inaccurate getup that included what Kirsten called a "suede vagi band-aid," horned mini helmet, faux fur trimmed cape, leather and fur wrist cuffs, and thigh high tan dominatrix boots, topped with a tiny fake knife attached to one thigh. It was hardly a fitting tribute to the memory of Viking women.

But Asger's gaze was fixed upon a tall, beautiful brunette in a leather jacket, low riding jeans and a wide, studded leather belt with a bull whip coiled at her hip. She stalked down the hall as if she owned it.

"I'd rather that lovely brunette kept me company unless, of course, she belongs to the Sheriff."

Pam's full lips quirked with amusement as Zeline Paquette Stackhouse accosted a huge, startled Cajun Vamp. "Pierre. Allons-y!" she growled, dragging him implacably toward a private suite. Pam snickered as Pierre pleaded, "Zeline, cher! Laisse-moi t'expliquer!" before the soundproof door closed with an ominous thud.

"Oh she belongs. She is Sheriff's Northman's niece, also his adopted daughter, and a Gythja of the Aesir," Pam explained.

Asger nodded. The niece was clearly off limits and just as clearly, a handful. If all of Northman's women were as headstrong as the Cajun beauty, Asger pitied the man his burden. His news would only add to the sheriff's woes.

Asger had heard the rumors of abduction, horrific battles across the worlds, and even divine intervention that had spread throughout the supernatural community. Most knew of the recent interspecies war, but only the older vampires had seen and recognized the great beings of this and other realms and truly understood how close Midgard had come to being extinguished.

Hilda hovered anxiously by the booth. Scenting the fangbanger's arousal, the big Vamp nostril's widened. He gave her a smile and patted the seat beside him, his voice laced with glamour, "Please sit beside me, my dear."

As he "entertained" Hilda, Asger pondered what he knew of Eric Northman. The Sheriff was now a vampire of some importance in the international community. And his amazing daughters and beautiful pregnant wife had shown themselves to be immensely powerful assets.

Kirsten and her twin sister Adele were the fruits of some spectacular sexual and magical hijinks their parents had enjoyed on their great –great grandfather's estate a little over nineteen years ago. Adele had inherited more of her mother's Fae blood, while Kirsten was almost entirely her father's daughter -- five foot ten inches of golden perfection with a distinctly lethal edge. Both young women were betrothed to powerful kings, but for now they were still under their father's protection.

Kirsten, a full Daughter of the Blood, was betrothed to Toller Hammarskjöld the King of Sweden. Adele, pledged to King Stanislaus of Texas, was rumored to be one of the most powerful beings in Midgard and an acknowledged ruler of Alfheim. It was also rumored that their children, especially Adele's, would be more powerful than any turned vampire. Powerful alliances resulting from their future marriages would make the Northman clan a powerful dynasty. But Northman's wyrd was of only passing interest to Asger, whose Child Sophie was the reason he sought Northman's assistance.

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Pam padded into Eric's office at the back of Fangtasia. He was cursing profusely in Old Norse, the English word "computers" following the Old Norse word for "fucking" at frequent intervals. Eric turned to Pam with a look of total exasperation. Pam's eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Technical trouble?"

"The computer system's infested with filthy imps. I've traced the source of the infection to Pierre. How could you be oblivious to imps? They may be invisible but they itch like fleas! He carried them into work and now they've hacked Valhalla's system. Who knows what the devious little bastards have damaged."

Pam smirked. "The big Cajun seems to be infested with more than imps; love has made him insensitive to everything but Zeline. "

Eric nodded grimly. "I'm about to readjust his…sensitivities. We host Adele and Stan's first reception outside of Texas in less than two weeks. I can't trust an outsider to handle this! The past month's payroll and hours are all screwed up—but there is more …aggravation…"

Pam raised an eyebrow. "What did Zeline do this time…? "

Eric slammed his hand on the table and cursed again when a crack ripped through the thick polished oak.

"For once Zeline is innocent, at least to a degree. Two nights ago that damn imp-infested Cajun and Zeline's Fae lover, Charles, met in the backwoods and battled for her--winner take all."

Pam snorted. "Testosterone poisoning! And… they thought that hand to hand combat was the way to win Zeline's heart? Well, if they had at it…I hope that Pierre beat the Fae. Although if he killed him…Niall will be most displeased." She paused, recalling the murderous look on Zeline's face. "Not to mention Zeline."

Eric scowled, "Pierre claims it was a stalemate-- that he knows better than to kill a Brigant retainer. Still, Prince Niall and Claude Crane believe that Pierre killed the Fae and are demanding fullrettirsorð for the loss of their kinsman. Pierre swears that Charles shot an him with an elf bolt at the same instant Pierre hit him. Pierre blacked out and returned to work infested with imps."

Pam shook her head. "A Fae would never harbor an imp… Imps swarm around demons like flies around rotting meat. It would be like harboring cockroaches. Or pigeons."

Eric glowered at her. "That's why I haven't allowed Niall to hunt the dumb bastard. An unknown demonic presence in my territory could be trouble. Besides, Pierre's an excellent bartender. We haven't had the best of luck with bartenders over the years. If word gets out that the stupid bastard was hunted by the Fae, we'd have a hell of a time finding a replacement."

Pam's lips thinned. "Still, the Brigants are kin...if you can't prove that a demon is involved in the Fae's disappearance, you'll have to hand Pierre over to Niall."

Eric nodded. "Yes. I'll not risk conflict with my daughter's people."

His fierce eyes softened when he thought of Adele. "We have all weathered a great storm, Adele more than anyone. We need time to recover from this war and I _will not_ risk Sookie's life again. Our son will have a peaceful birth." He glanced at the clock.

"Kirsten is on her way. She can read Pierre's mind easily. If he did kill the Fae, she'll know it."

Pam regarded her maker with affection. "If anyone can figure out this mess, it's Kirsten. I'll go check on Zeline – she dragged Pierre off to a conference room a few minutes ago, looking extremely pissed. You, however, need to talk to our guest, the vampire Asger. I'm pretty sure that he's in a position of command and, despite the attentions of our fair Hilda, he's distraught and intent upon speaking with you. The look-outs say he came alone."

Even though the war seemed to be over, the Supe community was still on guard and strangers were still suspect. Not all of the enemy vamps had been rendered definitely dead.

Eric rose, glared at the computer, and turned his back on it with relief. "Asger. An Old Danish name. It means 'God–Spear'. I'll see him now. Although the last thing I need is another incident. Perhaps his business touches our own."

He walked to the door, and then paused. "Find Kirsten. She should be here by now. Her magic is much more powerful since she became Gythja, but her new confidence outweighs her experience."

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Asger and Eric studied each other impassively. They shared broad, flat cheek bones, fair hair, and large, blunt-fingered hands best suited to gripping a spatha or an ax. Each recognized the other as a warrior whose body had been shaped by the trials of combat. Wordlessly, Asger turned over his right wrist revealing a large raised scar in the shape of Thor's hammer.

For an instant Eric's gaze sharpened. Then he nodded, sat down across form Asger, and waited while the stranger pulled out a photo of a slender, waif-like young woman with Audrey Hepburn's doe like eyes and delicate bone structure.

"I am Asger Østergaard, second to the King of Alabama. I seek my Child Sophie. Two nights ago, we went to a club. I left while she stayed behind with friends."

He frowned. Eric sensed there was more to the story - perhaps they had quarreled.

Asger's voice was strained with anger and grief. "My retainers said that Sophie danced with a strange vampire. They tried to stop her but Sophie can be very…obstinate. She had a blood with him." He paused. "That was the last time anyone saw her. We tracked the creature to the Mississippi line. I seek your permission to track her in your territory."

Eric gazed down at his hands. Asger and his Child had, no doubt, been lovers. She was very beautiful and it seemed from Asger's agitation that he was jealous and alarmed by Sophie's possible liaison with another male.

The Valhalla's bar was starting to fill up with its nightly quota of vampires, their fangbanger entourage, and a few high-end whores.

Nodding toward the many sharp-eared vamps, Eric suggested, "Let's go to my office."

When they were seated and the door was closed, he spoke more directly but kept his voice gentle "You and your retainers have my leave to search for your child. These are difficult times for all of us. As you know, this kingdom and my family in particular has just survived a war. I understand your…concern and will, with your permission, place Sophie's photo on our website and share it with those who can help. But, beyond these issues, how does your situation concern me?"

Asger clenched his hand until the muscles of his forearm stood out.

"It concerns you because throughout Tennessee, Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi and now possibly Louisiana, young vampire females are being killed. I have not seen the creature responsible for the disappearances, but I have tracked it for two nights straight. He is vampire, but there is something odd in the scent as well." His eyes bored into Eric's. "He is here, tonight. And your daughter, the lady Kirsten of the Blood, will certainly be at risk."

Eric cursed and pressed a "panic button" on his desk. The casino's vampire security answered immediately.

"Sorry Sheriff, our reporting software's still compromised by the imps. When we try to access data--all we get is a screen full of insults. Do you want a witch to exorcise them?

Eric's voice was low and angry. "No! No outsiders. Order a general call to action immediately. I want every vamp on staff from cooks to showgirls combing The Valhalla. Every guest and visitor is to be identified and monitored."

He was about to call Pam's private line when an unearthly shriek wrenched him to his feet and sent him running for the back door.

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Kirsten's fangs were down and her senses on high alert as she reached for the big steel hunting knife hidden under her driver's seat. Gripping the hilt, she withdrew it slowly, trying to keep it low and out of sight. The vamp would probably see it eventually, but the shadows might gain her that crucial moment to fend off an attack. Her glacial blue eyes narrowed as she scanned the deeply shadowed foliage, murmuring, "Come out come out, whoever you are…"

Slowly the creature emerged from the woods, keeping to the shadows. It probably thought that she was a human girl, maybe a fangbanger—easy prey. Kirsten got out of the car, never taking her eyes off the unknown vamp. Her unique scent might confuse him, but --if she was lucky--he wouldn't figure out who or what she was until she'd leveled him.

"Hey baby." Its voice was raspy and deep, "I can show you a real good time tonight. Come on over here and let's get to know each other."

Kirsten kept her voice level. "Back off asshole."

Feeling her battle fury rising, Kirsten stood her ground and set her stance for a fight. The vamp started to advance, swaggering forward. "OK cher. You didn't mean that. You don't have to be scared of me…"  
Kirsten put her hand to her throat, swallowed, feigned a tentative smile, and did her best Monroe imitation, "Boy, you scared me for a second…"

The creature inched closer, its outline and features were fuzzy, as if cloaked in shadows. Maybe this was its gift.

Opalescent eyes glittered in the moonlight. It inhaled deeply."You smell so good! I want to taste every inch of you." His ugly mouth tightened. "Now baby…right now."

Then it lunged, fangs fully extended, and clawed empty air with an eerie screech as Kirsten's boot plowed nearly through its crotch.

Recovering almost instantly, it whirled with vampire speed and grazed Kirsten's arm with its fangs as she twisted aside. For one frozen instant, their contorted faces were only centimeters apart. Kirsten hissed as a flame of comprehension raced through her. He'd touched her and she'd touched his mind. Her fangs were fully extended, yet this vamp wasn't surprised to see them. Oh yeah, he was pissed off, ready to kill…but not surprised in the least. This was a new kind of monster. Something dark, darker than a vampire's bloodlust, lurked in that sick, sick, brain.

Kirsten's movements blurred as she whirled and sprang with preternatural speed. Using the creature's forward momentum to her advantage, she gutted him from hips to sternum just as Eric, Asger and Pam rushed out the back door. They were too late to fight -- Kirsten was already cleaning her blade.

Pam patted her on the back, "Nice gutting job, sweetheart."

Kicking the crumpled form Kirsten huffed, "I missed a little. I was trying for lower down. He's alive enough to talk though."

Pam chuckled. She and Kirsten shared a rather dark sense of humor.

Kirsten's blue eyes glazed over as her battle fury began to wane. She had almost –but not quite - entered a state of berserker rage. She swayed on her feet as her fangs retracted and in a flash, Eric was there to support her. Speaking in Old Norse as they had since she was a little girl, each reassured the other that his daughter was unharmed.

Eric ground one big foot into the creature's throat, crushing its windpipe and causing its eyes to pop and quiver. Pam heaved aside the long slimy loops of gut, drove a silver edged dagger into the gaping hole, and hooted as the rogue gurgled, thrashed and smoked.

Asger voice was hoarse with fury. "That is the scent I am tracking. This is the one!"

Eric removed his foot obligingly. There were several sharp cracks as Asger landed on the creature's chest and stabbed for its heart with a savage, triumphant scream.

Eric checked the death blow with a grunt, "Not yet. Not until we find out why. And where your Child is."

Turning to Pam he said tersely, "Get a stake and the other gear. It _will_ talk to us before the night is out." Pam showed fang and patted her Prada handbag.

"We're good to go. Ever since the war, I won't leave home without it."

Four pairs of pitiless blue eyes stared down at the creature.

Eric addressed it, his voice flat with suppressed rage. "I am the Sheriff of Area Five. You have dared to assault my daughter a Daughter of the Blood, a future queen, and a noblewoman of the Brigant line. Your life is forfeit—you will tell us what you have done and why you attacked my daughter."

"Your pardon my lord," it groveled, "I thought that she was a human girl, a mere trifle. Had I known my mistake…" Asger pushed a little harder and the rogue was choked into silence.

Eric's voice was hard, "Any human on my premises is under my protection-- your life is still forfeit."

Kirsten shook her head, squatted down, and touched the small rune on her forehead with the rogue's blood. She had become a priestess of the goddess Freya, Lady of the Valkyrie, during the war. She addressed her father and the Dane.

"He's lying. The story's in his blood—in the blood of all of the victims he's consumed—this one is ord, evil. He sensed what I was, but thought that I was newly turned…weak." She swayed slightly and Eric gripped her shoulders.

She grinned wolfishly. "He didn't realize that I'm nearly as strong as you Faðir … I can find the truth, but I can't do it alone and Adele isn't here to help me." She dropped her head for a moment. When she lifted it, she addressed Asger first.

Pointing at the lightly glowing rune between her brows she said, "Our heritage is close to yours. Asger the Dane, do you know what I am? Answer me in your native tongue, as the goddess prefers. We will understand." Asger was startled. His voice was very low.

"Yes. Although it has been many ages since I have seen a true Gythja of the Aesir."

Kirsten nodded. "When you came here, you showed my father the rune of the Thunderer to gain our trust. But the Lady informs me that you have not shown the gods of your birth proper respect for many ages. Did you think that when you became vampire, you owed them any less allegiance? You have blinded yourself and anchored yourself to this world, Midgard—forgetting the other worlds. You were chosen for service and you accepted. By your witness here tonight, will you rededicate yourself to the Aesir?"

Asger bowed his head his hands still locked on the rogue's neck. "I will."

Kirsten nodded, "Then, with the help of the goddess we will give you the answers you seek."

She looked up at her father. "Get Zeline, and tell her to bring Pierre. We need to find out what he knows too. Something's very wrong with this…monster. I'll need Zeline to assist me." She paused. Her body stiffened, and then she nodded as if an unseen presence had whispered in her ear.

"Thalia is needed as well. She is in the bar." Pam raised an eyebrow and Kirsten's lip quirked in response. "Tell her, 'The goddess calls you.' She'll understand. I'll ward the area as soon as everyone's here. Nobody else can witness what happens next."

Pam hesitated for a second. Even though Eric was with her, she hated to leave her young kinswoman with a stranger and the gutted rogue. Still, Kirsten had come into her father's full strength when she crossed. She'd proven time and time again in the past months that she was a formidable warrior. And when the goddess took her, Pam doubted that any creature could harm her without risking its own death.

As soon as they left, Kirsten lifted a small pouch suspended from a leather thong from her neck. Pinching white grains between her fingers, she ignored the rogue's groans and Asger's startled look as she enclosed them within a circle.

She inclined her head toward Asger, "Step out of the circle. He can't move."

Asger's hands tightened around the rogue's neck. Eric took one step forward, his expression a mask of stone. Kirsten's expression stilled and grew serious. She was calling the goddess, entering a seiðr trance so that she could see and journey beyond the thin veil of Midgård's "reality."

"A Gythja of the Aesir has commanded you, Dane. Do as you are told, or die with the rogue," her father growled.

Zeline, Pierre, Pam and Thalia hurried toward them across the small, dark lot. Pierre's broad shoulders slumped a bit as Zeline gripped his hand and led him to Kirsten.

Kirsten eyes flashed like winter sunlight on snow. Her voice was layered with power.

Zeline whispered, "She will say what she hears in your head. If what you tell me is true, and you didn't kill Charles…it'll be OK beau."

She stepped behind Pierre and placed her hands on his shoulders as Kirsten's long, strong fingers splayed to frame his head, and pressed.

A tiny ripple, like an electric shock, ran through Pierre and Kirsten from scalp to toes.

Fury almost choked her. Her voice deepened and seethed with contempt. "Va te faire foutre, enculé! Morceau de merde …"

Blood drained from Zeline's face as she translated.

"Fuck you bastard! Piece of shit! You have another woman. The stripper who smelled of your seed… Coward! You don't love Z and she won't quit you, because even now she loves you!"

Kirsten's blue eyes blazed with fury. "Zeline is your ticket to the Brigant's good graces. I'm glad I kicked your sorry ass…as much as I'd love to drain you…I won't… for Zeline's sake…"

Kirsten swallowed hard and her voice tightened. Her fists clenched. Her breath came raggedly. "What's that? Get up idiot. For Christ's sake get up!"

A shadow passed over her face and her eyes became cold and dark.

Eric tensed and stepped forward. Both Thalia and Zeline gripped his arm.

"Don't touch her Oncle! It's only memories. The shadows and shapes of things he saw…" Zeline hissed.

Eric looked into his daughter's eyes and shivered. Something dark and cold stared out, oozing enough power to glamour a vampire.

"Need more … hungry…you, vampire, look at me. Yes. Take her. Bring the girl deep into the woods and scatter her ashes. Fear me. Obey. Forget. "

Kirsten crouched and hefted an unseen object. Her fangs descended as she gloated over her invisible victim.

"We've seen enough!" Eric growled. "Call her back!"

Zeline reached within the circle, touched the waving journey lines that marked her as a Gythja who performed seiðr magic, and whispered in Old Norse. Kirsten's heavy lashes flew up. She gasped as wave after wave of shock slapped her.

Eric looked at Pam and glared at Asger. "So soon…after all that we have been through. What have you brought down upon us Dane?"

Kirsten's eyes glittered with the uncanny awareness of an initiated priestess. "He has brought death. It is a test. The evil ones are testing us…they are always hungry. We have to kill it and send it back or they will send more from the demon realm. The lost ones must be found." She turned toward Zeline and Thalia.

Kirsten stepped into the circle where the rogue was pinioned by her magic.

"Step into the circle, both of you. I can't do this alone."

Kirsten's motioned to Thalia. "Thalia Delphenia, daughter of Diana, you have been called tonight to perform you duties as a priestess of the Lady."

Talia's black eyes widened. She trembled.

"I, I never left the Lady…the Lady deserted me."

Kirsten's took a deep breath. The air crackled with magic. A nimbus of light surrounded her, and her voice took on a richer, deeper tone, "My daughter, I am called by many names, for this daughter of the Aesir I am a shield maiden, for the daughters of the Olympians I am a huntress. It is all one. I call you back to me. I will fill you with my presence so that you will never feel empty again. Do you accept?"

Thalia bowed her head. "I do my Lady."

Thalia gasped as Kirsten bent forward and kissed her between her brows, where a little crescent moon, the sign of Diana, now glowed.

Kirsten smiled, "Now perform your duty with your sister priestesses."

Kirsten slumped for a moment and Eric moved forward. Thalia put up her hand. "Don't touch her! She is deep in the grip of the goddess."

Zeline nodded. "Kirsten knows what to do."

From around her neck, Kirsten removed an ancient, very sharp ritual knife from its red leather sheath. It had been Toller's first gift to her, handed down from "Selin that was." Like surgical nurses, the three priestesses worked together with precision. Kirsten slit her right palm and then did the same to Thalia and Zeline. Both women steadied Kirsten's wrist so that their blood dripped down onto the rogue's opened chest. He bellowed until Thalia took the blade from Kirsten and buried it in his chest.

Flanking Kirsten, Thalia and Zeline gripped her waist, lending her strength and grounding her to the earth and their power.

Kirsten's breath came in sobs. She threw back her head and the whites of her eyes glowed.

When she began to speak, her voice was steady and powerful, "This creature is a killer of women…It hungers always and seeks completion in its kills. It is demon possessed since it was made vampire three hundred years ago. In its human life it delighted in raping, torturing and killing young human women. It was easy for a demon to find a home in such a dark soul. It has roamed this world, delighting in the torture and slaughter of young women recently made vampire. These are the names of its last kills."

Thalia took a shuddering breath and intoned, "Joanna, Child of Brendan, Sarah Child of Julia, Arlene, Child of Joshua, Parvati Child of Arjun, Elizabeth, Child of Sylvia, Sophia, child of Asger, Charles--Cathal of the Fae."

Zeline's eyes filled with tears. She swallowed hard, bit them back. She would grieve later--for what she had lost and for what she thought she had found. Asger cried out, blood tears running down his face. Eric handed him the stake and with one huge thrust Asger it through the creature's chest and into the ground.

Thalia, Kirsten, and Zeline chanted side by side, their arms extended stiffly. Power rippled before them like heat waves. A pitch black hole had opened up in the air behind the staked rogue's head. As the body melted away, something darker than night rose out of it. The women braced each other and as their chanting grew louder, the dark shape fought an invisible current sucking it toward the dark hole. It lunged forward once but the wave of magic was too strong and the current pulled inexorably until it vanished, leaving only the darkness of a hot Louisiana night.

Eric caught Kirsten as she slumped back, while Pam caught Thalia and Pierre supported Zeline. Eric's eyes were stony with anger and his voice was too quiet.

"Asger, I am glad for your sake that you have had your vengeance and have learned what became of your child. But the price has been too high. Your pursuit drove this creature into my territory. It was drawn to my daughter. If it had killed her…" His icy blue eyes bored into Asger's. "I would have killed you."

Eric looked at his daughter with a fierce love. "The creature mistook her for a newly turned. If she hadn't had my full strength and agility, she might have died tonight. You have your answers. Go back to your home state now and do not enter my territory again. Too much was risked tonight."

The vampire nodded, and was gone without a word of thanks. The air calmed as the family's tensions dissolved. As they turned to re-enter The Valhalla, Eric's phone flashed. It was casino security.

"Sheriff? We combed the grounds. Didn't find anything unusual." He wouldn't, Eric mused, outside of this tightly warded area. "What of the computers?" he asked.

"It's the damndest thing. The imps just vanished and the whole system went back to normal."

Kirsten hugged her father.

"What's normal? I tried being 'normal,' didn't like it much. It's something to get away from."

Eric nodded. Nothing about tonight had been _normal_. "What humans consider 'normal', perhaps." He thought about the evening and every other evening of his long life.

"But even in our world, I've found that the only normal people are the ones you don't know very well."

_*********************_

_**Happy Valentines Days Lovelies!**_

_**So now you have a couple spoilers for the Northman Trilogy**__**…**_

_**&**_

_**A review from every reader would make me feel like I won the jackpot **_

_***HUGS***_


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